Stage magician whose madness most think an act, before they meet him off stage, and even in private. Not evil, but mischievous and constantly makes tiny schemes, some of which he even does. He narrates himself constantly, and joined the journey essentially for stories to supplement his normal material. For work at sea, he performs and distracts from harsh reality.

Maxwell Downing wears black. That is, until something colorful is unveiled, with greatly varying velocity, from some part of his outfit. Always dressed to perform, his ability to prepare such a nice, and apparently complex, suit is the biggest thing convincing people he is not totally gone. His hair is uncommonly pale, and he has a dozen stories of how it happened, each with a trick or two to go alongside it. His eyes dart, holding each object for a solid second before moving on suddenly. His posture involves no slouching, but he sways when he walks and bends when he acts or talks, always making hand gestures and being a bit more physical than most. That is not to say, though, that he's not gentle.

Maxwell is eccentric. You know it, he knows it, and he'll make sure the entire room knows it. Conversations with him generally involve him rambling at you, giving three sentences where one was needed, and him making descriptions more complicated than necessary. His greatest pleasure is in baffling others, and from this stems most of his lifestyle. Small pranks are common, but even more so are situations where he'll grab someone by the shoulder and explain exactly how a prank is about to unfold in front of them. More often than not, nothing happens (this makes the times it does all the sweeter for him).
Despite all his mischief and confusion making, Maxwell is a fundamentally good person. Though he'll never admit it, he's sane enough to know what's too far, such as anything which could damage the ship or severely injure a person. Still, he enjoys periodically putting a toe over the line, just to keep everyone on their toes. Rarely, he will place an aesop in his work (http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/AnAesop), usually for some specific person who is in a rut. This is often followed by something extra nonsensical, dispelling any illusions of true sanity.
To Maxwell, the best possible day is one in which nobody has any idea what just happened or how it happened, but everyone is pretty sure it's his fault.

Maxwell Downing was never a poor child, though one could hardly call him middle class. His family was making its way in Avalia, with his father working in aviation and mother managing the household and budget, being the thrifty woman she is. There's no real story behind them, though. Maxwell, however, managed to get himself into some trouble. Around the age of 12, he noticed how some of his peers, the ruffians really, would have one person put on a sort of distraction before another made an attempt at the victim's pockets and purse. Being a decent fellow, Max had no interest in the second half, but he loved the idea of holding people's attention in the palm of his hand. So he began performing.
And perform he did! By the age of 16 he was earning more tips than young adults with his various tricks and diversions. He was even surprised, on one overcast day, to be offered a chance to perform at a local establishment. Maxwell has long forgotten the place, and the details never mattered to him. Besides, the next day was when he got pulled in to the trouble of his old peers. They had, unbeknownst to Maxwell, begun using his performances as a chance to make a go at various pockets. Being the same age, Maxwell was assumed to be with them, and was found guilty in a group trial.
His parents, though their means were modest, moved to appeal the decisions, and eventually won his freedom, key point being that he had never received a penny of their takings and had no contact with the ruffians for well over a year. By that time, though, half a year had passed, and Maxwell was shaken by his time in prison. Ironically, so were the guards and other prisoners. You see, Maxwell didn't hold up well on his own, and needed to cope. As such, he leaned heavily on his tricks to get by and relieve some amount of the sheer stress and fear on his mind. The warden is certain Maxwell was unable to think clearly, since this had actually drawn the ire of his various volunteers.
Suffice to say that while Maxwell came out of there a better magician and more interesting person, he's never been near the same since.

Maxwell's parts will be written entirely in his self-running narration. (This will be modified for any collabs)